Dark Sights
by Fate8
Summary: Caution. Rating is for real. Batman learns that not even he can fix all of Gotham's problems. Reviews always appreciated.


The stark moonlight that broke over Gotham City dimly illuminated a lone figure on the rooftop of a crumbling building. Draped in shadows, the Dark Knight enjoyed a rare moment of repose. The city was relatively quite tonight, and there was no emergency that demanded his immediate attention. It was at times like this that Batman thought his city possessed a kind of terrible beauty, a fragile jewel sitting in the eye of a storm.

Movement on the street below caught his alert eye, and shook his reverie. A light touch to his cowl brought up a pair of telescopic night vision lenses. The images that sprang up caused him to suck in a sharp breath. A woman walked steadily down the sidewalk opposite the building he stood upon. Her head was down, and her arms crossed over her body. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings. Easy prey, he thought, and Gotham is full of predators. A glance up the street confirmed his apprehensions. Following the woman at an easy pace, but steadily closing the distance, was a loose know of four men. Their eyes were on her, with one or the other looking around every few steps to make sure no one else was around.

Batman touched his cowl again, and with a swirl of his cape, turned and left the roof.

Mary Holt continued to walk along the cracked and broken pavement, her mind teetering on the edge of despair. The ideal life that she had imagined not so many years ago had slowly crumbled into dust. She was near the end of her rope, and did not know where to turn. The latest blow had forced her to leave home in the middle of the night to try and clear her head. If there was a way out, she couldn't see it.

She was wrapped up in her thoughts, she did not see the man standing in front of her until he spoke. Mary had almost walked straight into him.

"Hey, pretty bird. What are you doing out all alone on a night like this?" Mary pulled up short, her breath turning to ice in her chest. She quickly turned to go back the way she had come, but found the path blocked by a lazy semi-circle of three other men. All of them were young, hard-edged and aglow with the manic energy of expectation. Mary's eyes darted back and forth like a caged animal, while she bit back a scream that threatened to crawl out of her throat. The noose tightened around her as the four men edged closer.

"You see," came a voice close behind her, "me and my friends are going to throw a little party and we want you to be the guest of honor. I promise it'll be fun...for us." A low chuckle escaped from the man to Mary's right, his gaze running up and down her body.

"Leave right now and you won't end up bleeding in the street." The voice came out of the darkness, packed with enough power and authority to send chills up the spines of the most hardened thug. Their eyes searched the immediate area, but the dim street lights could not push back the night far enough for them to find the newcomer.

"Come out where we can see you., man. I need something to hit," said the biggest man.

Batman stepped into the gloom. Surrounded by shadows that seemed to cling to him, he stood silent with his cape drawn about him. The man farthest from Batman had prison tattoos running down both arms. His eyes flew wide, and fear scrolled unbidden across his face.

"Shit," he croaked just before he turned and fled down the street as fast as his feet would carry him.

"Come back here, you fucking coward," screamed the man who had stopped Mary.

"Your friend isn't completely stupid," said Batman. "Last chance to save yourselves a lot of pain."

"Fuck you, man." The three remaining goons moved as one, converging on Batman. He stood unmoving until they had drawn close enough for him to strike. A powerful sidekick lashed out to meet the first onrushing attacker. A heavy boot smashed into an unprotected midsection. The snap of breaking ribs carried down the street. Batman pivoted in time to catch a fist aimed for his head. He took a small step forward and pounded a knee up into the assailant's crotch. As that one dropped to the ground, the Caped Crusader threw a precise elbow strike at the final antagonist. There was a satisfying crunch as the punk's nose acquired a new angle. Batman applied a wristlock before he could recover from the blow, and swung him headfirst into the nearest wall.

The annihilation had taken only seconds. Mary stared wide-eyed and dumbfounded as Batman stepped over an unconscious form and approached her.

"Are you alright," he asked. She turned her head away and looked down the street.

"Yes. I...I really should be getting back home." batman reached out, cupped her chin, and tilted her face up toward him. A livid bruise was beginning to grow on the left side. He had seen many such injuries over the years.

"Who hit you?"

"No one." She jerked her head out of his hand and looked at the ground. Slowly, almost subconsciously, she began pulling her hair forward to cover her face. "I was clumsy," she whispered. "I fell and hit a table. It's nothing." A moment of awkward silence followed, the lie as transparent as the air between them. "I have to go," she said. "My family will worry about me." Mary turned and walked quickly back down the sidewalk. Batman watched her go, then faded back into the darkness.

It was easy to follow her. He trailed her slow, halting gait across two streets and into a rundown residential neighborhood. She stopped in front of a ramshackle house with peeling paint and sagging gutters. Mary stood silently for close to three minutes, then walked toward the home, her head down and shoulders slumped.

Batman swung up into a high tree across the street and watched as Mary entered the house. He reached into one of the compartments on his utility belt and took out a minuscule listening device. He slipped the ear piece underneath his cowl, while pointing the receiver at the house. Voices came alive in his ear. One was angry. Slurred. Drunk.

"...have you been, you stupid cow? Answer me!"

"I just had to get out for awhile. Don't get mad." The woman. Her voice was soft. Meek. Batman could almost picture her cowed and cringing. His jaw clenched.

"Your clumsy brat made a mess in the kitchen while you were gone. Get in there and clean it up."

"Daddy, I didn't mean..."

"Shut up, you little bitch! You're just as worthless as your whore of a mother!" The sound of flesh striking flesh followed by a child's wail streaked across the airwaves. Batman pulled the listening device from his ear, and climbed down the tree. He sprinted across the street, his blood popping and burning.

The over-sized window at the front of the house was covered with curtains and a drawn blind. Neither of which gave more than token resistance as Batman hurled himself through the glass. He rolled through the mess and came to his feet in the blink of an eye. Three faces gaped back at him, two with streaming tears. He moved toward the one who still had dry eyes. The man had time to blurt out a confused "What," before a black gloved hand closed around his beefy throat and slammed him back into a wall.

"Shut up," said Batman, his voice nothing more than a low hiss in the man's ear. "You're pathetic. You batter the very people you should love and protect." His grip tightened, and the man began to choke. "You don't deserve them."

A tug on his cape distracted the Dark Knight. He turned his head and saw the girl. She must have been seven or eight years old. Blinking back tears, she said, "Please don't hurt my daddy. It was my fault he got mad."

Mary had collapsed in a corner with her face buried in her arms. "Please," she sobbed. "Just leave us alone."

Batman blinked, momentarily perplexed. He was used to dealing with strong women. Selina, Barbara, Cassandra, Talia, Diana. Not one of them would have tolerated this kind of abusive behavior for a second. He released his hold on the man.

The abuser saw the situation turning in his favor. He said, "Yeah, get out you..." Batman turned and sank his right fist deep into the man's solar plexus. Air left his lungs in a rush and he crumpled to the floor.

"I said shut up." He reached down and plucked the wallet from the back pocket of the writhing, breathless man. After reading the name off the driver's license, he tossed it back on the ground. Batman bent down again and grasped the man by the hair, forcing his head up off the floor. "Conrad Holt." His voice dripped contempt. "You need professional help. I suggest you get it. Soon." He paused. "I want you to remember something, Conrad. Only the intervention of your family stayed my hand this time. It won't save you again." He let go of the man and walked past the gasping, prone figure. He stopped alongside Mary, who was still on the floor. "Mrs. Holt. There is a battered women's shelter on Tompkins Street. My advice is to take the child and go there. You'd be better off."

She didn't say anything or even look up at him. Mary Holt just cried silently into her arms. Batman walked to the threshold of the front door. He opened it, and then looked back over his shoulder. "Don't make me come back here," he said. Then he left.

Hours later, Alfred Pennyworth walked down a staircase into the bowels of the batcave. He found Batman slumped in a chair, his cowl thrown back and his eyes staring off into somewhere else.

"Is something wrong, Master Bruce?"

"There is always something wrong, Alfred." He gestured idly with one hand. "There are times when I wonder why I bother fighting for them." Slowly, Batman told his oldest friend the whole sordid story , the frustration evident in his voice.

"It seems to me, sir, that you cannot help people unless they want to be helped. This woman clearly isn't ready to leave the lout she married. Even if removed for the home, she would likely return to him after a short time."

"Maybe." Batman leaned forward and put his face in his hands. "I don't like it. It's not right."

"Yes, sir. Come upstairs and have a bite to eat. It will make you feel better."

Batman got up from the chair, and began to follow Alfred up to the mansion above the cave. A steely glint came to his eye, and he whispered to himself, "Conrad Holt. Gonna keep an eye on you."


End file.
